


it will not corrupt you

by ftera



Series: the thing about loving monsters [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftera/pseuds/ftera
Summary: The scent isJack, that much is obvious, but it's ten times more intense. A battle of instincts plays in him, rooting him in place.Rhys wants so many things— to run, to hide, to confront the alpha and calm the edge of somethingmorethat he can smell, but for a few terrifying seconds all he wants is to get fucked.





	it will not corrupt you

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be apart of something bigger I was planning on writing and I didn't like the way it fit into the story but I still liked it enough to keep it so I'll just post it on its own
> 
> consider it a timestamp? of sorts?? hmm

The office is unusually silent when Rhys comes in after lunch.

It's not— it's not _uncommon_ , exactly, but in the four years Rhys has been working for Jack he can count on both hands the amount of times he's come into the office only to find it this quiet. It's dark, but that doesn't mean anything. Rhys can turn the lights off when he leaves the office and come in the next morning to find Jack sitting in the dark, totally immersed in a project.

Besides, he tells himself, Jack had left a bit before he'd gone out for lunch to go down to R&D’s labs for whatever new thing they'd come up with. (Not that Rhys really cared— all he knew is that when their name appeared in his emails he immediately sent them off to Jack without looking them through. More often than not it was updates on stupid projects and it was only fair that the one who requested said stupid projects had to deal with them.) At this point Rhys knows that when Jack takes a trip to R&D he can be gone for hours at a time so, really, he should've expected the office to be empty. 

Despite knowing this, his eyes instinctively go to Jack's desk, but the chair is facing Elpis.

Something is making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and at first he thinks it's the fact that Jack's computer screen is lit up and casting a glow on the back of his chair, but then he inhales and freezes.

It's _Jack_ , that much is obvious, but it's ten times more intense. A battle of instincts plays in him, rooting him in place. Rhys wants so many things— to run, to hide, to confront the alpha and calm the edge of something _more_ that he can smell, but for a few terrifying seconds all he wants is to get fucked.

He takes a breath through his mouth, trying to filter the scent out a bit. “Jack?” he calls, hesitant, wary.

Jack's chair jerks suddenly, and Rhys is able to take a step forward. When the chair doesn't spin around like he is expecting it to, he takes another few steps forward, more worried now than anything. Jack jerks up from where he was— on the ground? and adjusts so his palms are flat against his desk, towering over Rhys.

“Jack?” he asks again, this time barely a whisper, confusion settling in him.

Jack is just staring now, nostrils flared as takes Rhys in. There's a low noise filling the room, a high pitched whine, and it takes Rhys a second too long to realize it's _him_ doing it in response to the way Jack's lip is viciously curling up, but even realization can't stop the sound. When the whine continues on, Jack blinks a couple times and then shakes his head. “Rhys,” he says, voice deeper than he's ever heard it.

There isn't even a pause before Jack hops over his desk and tumbles down the stairs, and Rhys is too busy being _confused_ that he doesn't expect Jack to come crashing into him, but the impact his head makes on the floor stings and he knows he's going to be feeling it later.

“ _Mine_ ,” Jack growls, crowding over him, but Rhys is still trying to puzzle everything together, trying to understand what's happening. Jack is nipping at his neck now, trying to get a response, and Rhys distractedly tilts his head back a little to give him space. Jack _coos_ at him, very obviously pleased, and Rhys’s hips rise at the unexpected rush of pleasure it brings him. It's almost too easy to get lost in Jack's actions, but something here is still _wrong_ , so he takes advantage of Jack's attention to his neck (too close to his bonding gland, too dangerous, too easy to sink into) to call down to medic to get a team up here.

He spends the minutes waiting underneath Jack, trying to figure out what's going on while the alpha slips his hands under his shirt and alternates between licking and lightly biting his neck. When one of Jack’s hands makes its way to Rhys’s belt, he has to grab the wandering appendage and sternly tell Jack “ _No_.”

Jack growls, and when it doesn't have any effect on Rhys, he whines. It's genuine, unlike the ones Jack usually makes when he complains about trivial things, like going to meetings or not having enough sugar in his coffee, and Rhys knows he's never going to bring the noise up to Jack,  _ever_ , but he's also never heard Jack sound needy and he files it in his head so he doesn't forget it. 

It takes Rhys running his fingers through Jack's hair and guiding him back to his neck to distract him, and he presses his eyes shut and hopes for the medic team to get there soon.

 

* * *

 

The doctor assigned to Jack tells Rhys that it's a false rut, but it doesn't make much sense to him. From what he'd heard, ruts were a lot like heats, and when he points this out the beta shakes her head. “Heats are an omega’s way of saying its body is at its most fertile. An omega's body is on a cycle, so it makes them go into heat every few months to entice someone to mate them. Ruts are… a bit more complicated. Unbonded alphas rarely go into rut unless they have prolonged exposure to an in-heat omega.”

The doctor (her name is _Amy,_ he reminds himself) frowns, looking down at Jack's charts before going over to the machine Jack is hooked up to so she can check his vitals. “Ruts are really designed to keep up with an omega’s heat, but mostly it's just about an alpha being more reliant on their instincts, which usually makes them more attentive to the omega they're with.”

“Aren't ruts usually… aggressive?” Rhys questions, glancing at where Jack is lying in a hospital bed. The image of it unsettles him— he's never seen Jack so _helpless_ before, and it does weird things to his image of who Jack is. The room is too white, too sterile, and it feels out of place for Jack to even _need_ to be in a room like this, but it's his fault for volunteering to be R &D’s guinea pig. It really shouldn't surprise him, after all this time, but it still amazes him how much shit Jack willingly tries when he's in the labs. None of them have ever had this sort of effect on him, though.

Rhys might have to start accompanying Jack on these excursions, though he's loath to go anywhere near the labs. The skag enclosures are usually enough to make him feel anxious when he's down there, nevermind the sneers the scientists send his way when he doesn't understand whatever the hell it is they're talking about. It's not his job to care.

Amy raises an eyebrow. “They can be, yes, if the alpha feels like there's a threat nearby. His body is probably very confused with no omegas in heat around him. You said you didn't have any problems with him when you first found him?”

Nodding, Rhys takes a seat beside the bed. “He growled a little at first but when he realized who I was he just wanted to scent me.” He decides to not think about that and traps his hands between his thighs so he doesn't touch his admittedly tender neck. “Is this— is it from something R&D cooked up?”

“I can't imagine what else it would be. I don't know what else would cause a rut so out of the blue. Jack will probably be… out of it for the next few days.” Amy turns her appraising eyes on him now. “Are there any omegas that Jack keeps in constant close contact with?”

When he realizes she means _sexually_ , a flush rises in his cheeks and he has to look away. “I— No. He's too busy with work, he doesn't go out very much. There's never— I've never smelt another omega on him.” He's not thinking of how Jack had pressed him into the ground and growled out _mine_ , really, he _isn't_ —

She hums. “It might be wise to do your work from this room if you can while his body runs through this. It's a false rut but not a correct one— whatever R&D came up with the chemicals are all wrong. Jack will come out of this fine but his body doesn't know how to react to it. He might be a little weaker than usual and the scent of a familiar omega might be beneficial.”

Rhys looks back at Jack, still subdued to drugs the medics had given him when they'd first come into the office. He looks almost peaceful, which isn't something Rhys ever thought Jack could look like. “Alright,” he says, and settles himself further into his chair.

 

* * *

 

It takes three long days for the false rut to burn out of Jack's system.

He wakes up a few times during the first day, at first confused at his surroundings, but Rhys is quick to push him down and calm him through the use of gentle words and, occasionally, when it's obvious the words aren't getting through, he'll cup Jack's face with his flesh hand and Jack will nuzzle into his wrist, soothed by his scent. He marvels at how _pliant_ Jack is, amazed that he would allow it even in the state he's in.

Because Jack sleeps through most of the first day, Rhys spends most of his time on his ECHO Comm, sorting through the urgency of some of the messages. He rearranges a lot of meetings, clearing out the rest of the week because he isn't sure how long this is going to take. Some of the departments that message him back sound a little pissed, and others still demand for Jack's attention, but there isn't much he can do for that except tell them to wait. He emails Jack's secretary, Meg, and asks her to sit in on some of the meetings that don't really need Jack's input and take notes and then send him a summary later. It's stressful trying to move around things in Jack's already packed schedule, but he finds that when he's stressing too much over how to fit everything together Jack will open his eyes and start grumbling at him. He pats Jack's arm in reassurance.

The second day Jack is awake more and definitely more restless than the previous day. Rhys accounts it to the fact that Jack doesn't usually ever sleep to begin with, so his body doesn't know what to do with the energy. What really starts worrying him is how much Jack is sweating and how little he's talking.

Amy comes in during the middle of the day at one point when Jack is awake, and the second the door opens Jack is growling low in his throat. Rhys slaps Jack's thigh, only hard enough to get his attention, and the growling stops. She checks over Jack's vitals again in silence and Jack keeps a wary eye on her. Rhys tries not to roll his eyes at the dramatic display Jack makes, posturing defensively as she gets too close into his space.

When she makes to leave Rhys stands up, wanting to ask questions. Jack immediately panics. He's been slow all morning and is propped up on pillows but he reaches out for Rhys’s arm with surprising speed. “Rhys,” he says, voice clear for the first time in hours.

“Just a second,” he promises.

Jack frowns. “Rhys,” he says again, this time more decisive.

His scent is the easiest way to subdue him, so Rhys leans forward and brushes their cheeks together. Jack quickly takes advantage, brushing his lips against his jaw and then angling a little lower to worry at the skin of his throat with his teeth. Rhys is a little embarrassed at the quick, sharp purr he lets out, but when he pulls back a second later Jack is smiling stupidly at him. “I'll be right back,” he tries again, and this time Jack just nods, still smiling.

Amy is waiting just outside the room. “Questions?” she asks, leaning against the wall.

“I— yes. Is he supposed to be sweating so much? He was fine yesterday.” He waves his arms around a little as if it's supposed to get a point across.

She looks down at the tablet she's holding for a few seconds and then back at him. “It's just the false rut burning through his system at a rate that's quicker than what we'd been expecting. His body is rejecting the chemical modification, as it should be, and trying to get rid of it as fast as it can.”

Amy pulls away from the wall, shifting from one foot to the other. “His body is weak right now because it's so focused on what's going on internally. He might be—” She pauses, trying to find the right phrase. “He might be more inclined to tactility at this point, but I'm not sure what effect it would have on him, if any. At this point just trying to make him feel comfortable is your best bet for him making a quick recovery.”

Sighing, Rhys runs a hand down his face. He'd worried for a bit that Jack was sweating too much, looked a little too uncomfortable, but it wasn't anything he couldn't fix. With a quiet thanks, he goes back into the room.

Jack's eyes are trained on him as he heads into the adjoining bathroom. There's towels under the sink and he grabs one of the smaller ones and gets it wet with cold water before perching himself at the edge of the bed. With slow, careful motions, he wipes at Jack's face. For a few seconds he considers taking the mask off because he doesn't even really _want_ to think of how much sweat is under it but he brushes the thought away. Even with how Jack is leaning his head into Rhys’s palm he doubts he'd be forgiven for even touching the metal clasps without permission.

Rhys spends the rest of the day feeling restless himself, pacing the room when he isn't checking in with Meg on his ECHO eye or trying to keep Jack cool or exchanging messages with Vaughn. The few games he has on his Comm device get boring quickly and Jack is still too deep in his instincts to actually make conversation outside a petulant “ _Rhys_ ” when he deems that the omega isn't paying enough attention to him.

At one point Rhys crawls onto the bed because the chair is starting to get uncomfortable. Jack is still propped from the waist up and he looks down at first confused at the head now resting against his thigh, but when Rhys nuzzles against him Jack starts running fingers through his hair.

The feeling is… _nice_ , for a lack of a better word. And Jack isn't judging him out loud for a change, so that's good too. He isn't as embarrassed this time when he starts purring under Jack's attentive hands, and he really hopes Jack doesn't remember most of this, even as he begins to drift off.

When he wakes up, Jack is already awake. He's about as sweaty and gross looking as he'd been the day before but despite this he's just _staring_ at Rhys, and he shifts, suddenly too awake, wondering if Jack had slept at all.

The third day is by far the worst. Jack seems to be burning through the worst of it and he looks tired and won't stop moving around, but when he tries to get up he's stopped by the weakness in his own limbs. The best Rhys can do is keep cold towels pressed to his face and feed him bits of fruit that Amy brings in.

Jack is also a lot more handsy, too, reacting to every movement Rhys makes. He whines subtlety whenever Rhys leaves his side and is always fast to grab at his hands and wrists and arms. At one point when the fever seems to be getting worse he reaches out for Rhys’s neck, palm warm and heavy against the black circular tattoo there, against his bonding site, and while the pressure there relaxes him he realizes Jack is doing it in a response to his own stress over Jack's condition.

A few times the scent of Jack’s arousal spikes up (it's what ruts are for, he tells himself, trying not to think too deeply into it) and he pushes through it by breathing through his mouth and batting away Jack's curious hands.

By the time Jack starts falling in and out of sleep, Rhys is exhausted just from trying to keep up with Jack. He collapses again into the chair at the side of the bed and crosses his arms over the bed and isn't even aware of himself falling asleep as well.

The fourth day greets him with gentle hands running through his hair. He subconsciously presses into the point of contact and then slowly blinks his eyes open, lifting his head to glance up.

“Hey, cupcake,” Jack says, voice rough and low from disuse.

Rhys tries to swallow, voice suddenly dry. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

The smile Jack gives him is barely a curl of his lip. “Like I went through the frickin’ grinder, kiddo. Looks like R&D pulled a fast one on me, huh?”

“I keep telling you to stop taking their prototype pills,” Rhys reminds him with a frown, sitting up and dislodging Jack's fingers from his hair. He regrets it almost immediately, missing the touch, but schools his face so Jack can't tell.

Jack barks out a laugh. “Alright, alright, lesson learned.”

As if he hasn't heard that one before. Rhys raises an eyebrow at him. Jack just stares back at him until Rhys breaks eye contact.

“Doc told me you've been hanging around the past few days.” Jack still sounds amused.

The blush that slowly burns across his cheeks is unwelcome, and he refuses to look at Jack even though it's clear by the laugh Jack lets out that he can very clearly see the effect he's having on Rhys. “Figured you'd be pissed if I left you to the mercy of doctors and nurses when you were out of your mind.”

“Oh, pumpkin, who said I was out of it?”

The blush grows, spreading down his chest, but this time Rhys turns his glare to Jack. “We're not talking about this.”

Jack is grinning at him now, far too pleased. “It was cute. You were purring, it was adorable.”

“No.” Rhys pouts, then gets up and grabs his Comm device. “Conversation over. Not talking about this.”

“Aw, Rhysie, don't be upset.”

Rhys turns his nose up, heading for the door.

Still teasing, he hears Jack call out for him one more time before he closes the door behind him. He's still upset at being wound up, but if Jack remembers all that and said he was still fully aware of what was going on, then surely it had been a conscious decision to put a sure palm on Rhys’s neck to calm him, wasn't it?

Using his hand to cover his smile, Rhys headed back to his apartment, feeling more pleased than he had been in a while.


End file.
